Wings Take Flight
by ardhrianna
Summary: Sam's troubled and Frodo wants to know what's wrong.


Wings Take Flight  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) And for Janelle, my muse who gives me the needed boots to the head.  
  
******  
  
Wings Take Flight  
  
  
  
I see your face as everyone congratulates me on a mission accomplished. The Ring was destroyed, and Frodo Baggins is a hero. From the way they talk, it sounds like I single-handedly slew the entire army of Sauron and easily walked into Mordor to destroy the Ring. But we know different, don't we, Sam? We know how difficult it really was. I feel Merry get up from his seat beside me to go talk to Arwen and the new King of Gondor--I shall never get used to calling him anything other than Aragorn or Strider--and I see Legolas and Gimli engaged in some debate or another across from me, refereed by Lord Elrond. As I watch our friends being *normal* for the first time in months, I feel your presence beside me. Supporting me. Even, dare I say it, loving me.  
  
"All hail Frodo Baggins!" Merry's voice rings out above the others' raising his glass in a toast. Everyone present at the feast follows suit and I have to blush.  
  
"Frodo the hero!" I hear from another voice, farther down the table. More and more voices join in the chorus until the whole hall is ringing with the sound of my name. I simply smile and allow the din to die down to the level it was before Merry's interruption. I love my cousin, but sometimes I'd like to throttle him. And from the wink he gives me, he knows he's in for it if I catch him later.  
  
"Mr. Frodo?" Your voice, so soft and welcome to my ears amidst all this chaos.  
  
"Yes, Sam?"  
  
"Would you mind greatly if I slipped out early?"  
  
Trying to keep the surprise out of my face, I nod. "Go ahead, Sam." Giving me a wan smile, you slip from the room as Merry approaches to re-take his seat beside me. Sighing, I instinctively finger where the Ring once lay against my chest, even now surprised that it's no longer there. And as my hands return to my lap, empty-handed, I catch sight of the missing finger of my hand. Yet another sacrifice made along the journey to save Middle-earth. Everyone makes the loss of my finger to be a huge deal, yet I know it's not. Compared to what you gave up for me along the journey, my finger is nothing.  
  
"Where did Sam go?" Pippin, on my other side, asks.  
  
"He was tired, I suppose." But I know that's not right. Something else is bothering you, Samwise Gamgee. I just wish you'd tell me what it is. I again reach for the place the Ring used to be, but Merry catches my hand with a sad smile, gently running his perfect hand over my disfigured one. The Ring almost took me, and if it wasn't for Gollum taking the finger that bore the ring, the Quest would have failed. No, that's not right. If it wasn't for *you*, the Quest would have failed. If not for you, I would have given up long before reaching Mordor. I never would have survived the Orcs when they took me at the Black Gate. If not for you carrying me, I never would have even made it to the cracks of Mount Doom. If not for you...  
  
If not for you, I wouldn't be sitting here today.  
  
Listening to the conversations swirling around me is hurting my head. Even though you've only been gone for a few minutes, I already miss you. Your strong will, refusing to let me give up. Your hands on my back, guiding me when I need it. Your smile when one of the elves says something amusing. Your laugh when Merry or Pippin (often both) do something stupid. Your gentle voice in my ear, reminding me of the days we spent in the garden, me trying to help you and you laughing at my incompetence.  
  
I don't laugh as much these days, and neither do you. It pains me to know something is troubling you so deeply that you can't even take joy in the gardens here at Rivendell. I overheard Lord Elrond telling someone, probably Gandalf, that you haven't gone with Legolas to talk to the trees since the day we got back. There was a time when we couldn't get the two of you back IN to eat, but no longer. Things have changed, and not for the better. I miss the old Sam. I don't regret my losses--I made the decision to carry the Ring into Mordor--but I do regret yours. You were dragged into this, and given the choice, I never would have made you come. Given the choice, I would have made sure that you were still at home in the Shire, tending my garden, reminding me that I have something to live for. Right now, I'm not so sure. The Ring took so many things from us, Sam. From BOTH of us, and don't think I don't know that.  
  
My attention is drawn back to the feat, where Gimli is now standing and shouting at Legolas, who is smirking about something. Lord Elrond is trying to get him to sit back down while scolding Legolas at the same time. Merry has again disappeared while Pippin is engaged in conversation with the elf on his other side. Glancing around to ensure nobody is watching, I slip from the room to search for you. I think it's time we talked about what's bothering you, although I think I have a pretty good idea.  
  
Finally, I find you. Somehow, you would up in Lord Elrond's library, sitting in the great chair by the window. Feeling rather like an elf, I silently pad closer to your chair. "Sam?"  
  
"Mister Frodo!" I've clearly startled you because there are tears running down your face and normally you wouldn't show me your pain. "Is the dinner over already? I must have lost track of time, sitting in here and thinking! I'm sorry!" By the expression on your face, you seem to be expecting a reprimand. But how can I scold you when you've done nothing wrong?  
  
"Sam, relax. I'm not angry at you."  
  
"Do you need anything? You shouldn't have been walking around, looking for me when you're still on the mend like you are!" Ah, there's my old Samwise. Always putting me first.  
  
"I wanted to come look for you because we need to have a little talk. Something is troubling you and I want to know what it is."  
  
"Nothing." Setting your chin in an expression I haven't seen since you were a tweenager, you stare back at me with a faint spark of your old fire.  
  
"Sam."  
  
"It's nothing you should be thinking about, Mr. Frodo."  
  
"But I do, dear Samwise. Because it's clear to me that you're unhappy."  
  
"I'm alright, honest I am."  
  
"You're lying to me."  
  
"NO!" But your voice and your eyes betray you, Sam. Your voice trembles and your eyes won't meet mine. You should know by now that I can tell when you're lying. "I swear I'm tellin' the truth, Mr. Frodo. There ain't nothing wrong."  
  
"Sam..." Sitting on the arm of the chair, I force your eyes to meet mine. "I know what's wrong. You're feeling left out. Ignored." Your eyes flicker slightly and I know I've hit the truth. "Everyone is ignoring you in favor of me. And that upsets you."  
  
"No. Well..." Sighing, you finally brake our eye contact. "I'm not upset. Really. You're a hero, Mr. Frodo. They're celebrating you."  
  
"But I never would have made it if it wasn't for you," I tell you gently.  
  
"I didn't do nothing special," you protest.  
  
"Sam, you carried me halfway up Mount Doom. You battled a dozen Orcs to save me from the Black Tower. You denied yourself food and water so I'd have the strength to go on." Your eyes flash again, this time in surprise. "Yes, Sam. I remember what you did for me during that journey. It's coming back to me in bits and pieces, and some of them are more than a bit blurry, but I do know this. If not for you, I would be dead. You gave up so much for me, nearly killed yourself so I'd be able to go on, and don't you dare try to tell me you didn't do anything special!"  
  
"But..."  
  
"Shut up for a minute, Samwise Gamgee." The look on your face almost makes me laugh, but I force myself not to. "Listen to me. I know what you did for me in Mordor. And I just want to say thank you."  
  
The look on your face right now is quite priceless. But you soon get a hold of yourself and begin shaking your head and I have to put my hand on your shoulder to keep you from jumping out of the chair to protest. "No, Mr. Frodo... I didn't do nothing!"  
  
"Sam. Stop." I can feel your body relaxing under my hand, so I release your shoulder. "Just let me do this my own way, okay? Even if nobody else knows what you did for me, and what you sacrificed... *I* know. And I appreciate it more than you will ever know." You don't say anything for the longest time and I have to smile. It's not often I can stun a Gamgee into silence. "You are allowed to speak now, Sam."  
  
"I have nothing to say," you half-whisper. "I only did what I needed to do. There ain't nothing special about that."  
  
"Maybe not to you, but it's special to me."  
  
Finally, you look up at me, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you, Mr. Frodo." With those simple words, I know you're finally beginning to understand what you mean to me. I owe you everything, Sam. And I intend to repay you. Every little thing I can do possibly do to make you happy, I will do it. I feel like we've changed roles-- I'm the one taking care of you, rather than the other way around. But I wouldn't have it any other way.  
  
Smiling, I hold out my hand for you to take. "Come on, Sam. We have a dinner to attend."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Frodo, we do."  
  
See, Sam? Everything will be allright. Even if nobody else appreciates you, I do. And that's all that matters in the end, isn't it? 


End file.
